


Say Hello to all of My Problems for Me

by nautical_2



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, the idol producer tag on mingmings name activated my fight or flight reflexes, this fic would be like one fourth as long if they just talked to each other, unnecessary drama, wonhui being idiots but what else is new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:36:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24530122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nautical_2/pseuds/nautical_2
Summary: In a world where soulmarks are scorned and soulmates looked down upon, Wonwoo wishes he was allowed to fall in love.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun
Comments: 24
Kudos: 157





	Say Hello to all of My Problems for Me

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, i know its 2020 and I'mm writing a predebut fic, please don't yell at me.  
> Title comes from "Piece of Your Heart" by Mayday Parade

When Pledis management asks him what his soulmark says, Wonwoo tells them that it’s none of their fucking business.

Well, not really. He tells them that he’d really prefer not to say, perfectly polite, and the managers stare with eyes narrow and mouths turned down, but the questioning stops there.

He doesn’t know if this is a standard for trainees. He would ask, but the rest of the SEVENTEEN trainees that he meets are tall and beautiful and dance like they don’t have bones, and he can’t help but feel insignificant compared to them. 

Except for Samuel, who is small and cute, but Wonwoo can’t ask a kid with bare arms about what’s normal for marked trainees. And, even though it (probably) won’t happen, Wonwoo can’t help but feel like if he asks anyone else he’ll be told that he should be thankful that he’s even here in the first place, really.

In the end, out of the three of them, it’s Kim Mingyu who breaks first. The dorms are crowded and privacy is a privilege, not a right, so Mingyu grabs Wonwoo’s hand after a morning full of dancing and tripping over his own feet and pulls him out of the building and into a cold alleyway. 

“This is either the beginning of a horror film or a porno.” Wonwoo says, and tries not to let his teeth clack together too obviously. 

Mingyu laughs, because apparently he has no morals, and hands Wonwoo one of the coats he grabbed on their way out. “Here.” 

There aren’t many people around. It’s the middle of the day, and adults are at work, children are at school, and no one in their right mind would be hanging outside in the middle of December. Especially since there are perfectly accessible temperature controlled practice rooms right there in the basement of the building they’re leaning against. 

“So?” Wonwoo asks, sliding his arms into his sleeves. He doesn’t want to know how Mingyu knew which jacket was his. “Did you drag me out here to have your wicked way with me or not?” 

Mingyu shakes his head. He looks like a puppy. “I wanted to know about your soulmark.” 

The thing is, they’re not friends. Wonwoo can safely say that at this point, none of the trainees are really friends. They’re strangers that were put together in the same room, told to make nice and learn from each other and charm what few fans they have. They’ve sectioned off into groups, or cliques, for a lack of a better word, but Wonwoo and Kim Mingyu and Moon Junhwi have circled around like birds, unable to find a place to land. 

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “I don’t know you well enough for that.” The words are stiff, and it’s too late to take them back and mold them into something nicer. 

Mingyu laughs again. Wonwoo wonders what it’s like to feel so comfortable around people he hardly knows. It’s a gift that he hasn’t been given, and not for the first time, a biting sense of envy washes over him. 

“Let’s consider this us getting to know each other then!” Mingyu says, and bats his eyelashes like he’s trying to be cute.

It works. But only a little. Really, Mingyu is too tall to be this cute, not like Lee Jihoon.

Wonwoo doesn’t know what to do. Is he supposed to nod? Tell Mingyu about his soulmate?

In the end, he doesn’t do anything at all. Instead, Mingyu takes his hands like they’re playing a truth game and stares directly into Wonwoo’s eyes until they’re both blushing. His lips are numb, but Mingyu’s hands are warm, and something sickly rises up in the center of Wonwoo’s stomach. He’s never met someone so honest in his entire life. Someone so open. So warm. 

He’s never met another person with a soulmate before, either. Not until he moved to Seoul.

“My name is Kim Mingyu and I was born in 1997.” Mingyu starts, and Wonwoo can’t help but laugh a little. “My friends back home call me dumb sometimes, but that’s okay, because I’m really good at making people laugh. I have a little sister, but I’m the better looking one out of the two of us, and her best friend is my soulmate but she told me that she didn’t want to have her life dictated by unnatural forces, which is fine, because this is my dream. I had to tell the managers her name, though.” Finally, he takes a breath, and scrunches his nose. “I hope she doesn’t mind.” 

Wonwoo raises his eyebrows. This is his cue to reply, to say something equally as deep and honest, but he doesn’t know how to translate into words how lucky it is that Mingyu’s found his soulmate, even if they agreed that nothing was to come of that relationship. That he’s been lonely his entire life and when among strangers all he knows how to do is listen, and that in the dead of night when he’s the only one awake is the only time he admits to himself that he hopes SEVENTEEN becomes his family because he can’t live the rest of his life lonely if it doesn’t. 

Instead, what he says is this: “I don’t know who my soulmate is.” 

“Have you not met her yet?” Mingyu asks earnestly. “That’s okay, I know I’m a rare case.”

“No.” The word comes out short and harsh. “I don’t know who it is.” 

It’s Mingyu’s turn to frown, finally understanding. “How do you not know who your soulmate is?” He asks the question like it’s never occurred to him before, like there’s no possible way someone could NOT know who their soulmate is if they have a soulmark. 

Wonwoo shrugs. Words are hard. “I just don’t.” He says, and hopes Mingyu leaves it at that. It’s not his intention to be mean, but Wonwoo has never been good with people.

And Mingyu does. Something in his eyes shut down, and he nods once before finally letting go of Wonwoo’s hands to lead them back into the building, where the rest of the trainees are waiting. It’s a cold response to Wonwoo’s naturally cold aura. 

“Wait.” Wonwoo says, feeling a little bit desperate. He knows, vaguely, what he did wrong, but he doesn’t know how to make it right. Doesn’t know how to explain. It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk, doesn’t want to get to know Mingyu and his exuberant personality better, but Wonwoo has never known how to talk about soulmates. Has never known the right thing to say, or not say.

But he does have a question. 

“Why me?” He asks. “Why not talk to Moon Junhwi?” 

Mingyu smiles, and if Wonwoo hadn’t witnessed at least two perfectly honest smiles right before, he wouldn’t have noticed that this one is fake. But the smile doesn’t quite reach Mingyu’s eyes, and the airy laugh sounds a little bit forced. Wonwoo shoves his hands into his coat pockets. The wind is getting stronger, and his fingers are cold. 

“I did.” Mingyu says, like it’s nothing. He doesn’t stop walking.

“And?” 

Mingyu stops. Turns around. Shrugs. “He’s kind of scary, y’know? Like, he’s nice, but I heard he used to be a child actor in China or something. Plus–” Mingyu runs his hand through his shaggy hair. The individual strands stir in the wind, ice collecting on the very tips.

“When I asked, he said the same thing you did.” 

\---

Wonwoo runs into Moon Junhwi in the bathroom exactly once during the first four months of living together, which is a surprisingly small number considering how many people live in one dorm and how often teenage boys need to use the bathroom. 

Wonwoo is washing his hands, his sweater pushed up to his elbows, and Moon Junhwi pushes past him to grab his toothbrush. His eyes drop, first to Wonwoo’s hands, then to his covered wrist, and finally back up to his face. 

“You have glasses.” Moon Junhwi says. 

Wonwoo blinks. “What?” He asks. Moon Junhwi speaks with soft consonants and tilted vowels, the words slurring together the tiniest bit, like he’s unused to the language but used to talking fast and can’t quite slow himself down.

“Glasses.” Moon Junhwi says, and gestures up to Wonwoo’s face. The toothpaste hangs precariously on Moon Junhwi’s toothbrush. He’s wearing only a tank top and shorts and a wrap around his wrist, despite the weather, and Wonwoo can’t help but wonder if Moon Junhwi’s blood is made of ice.

“Yes.” They’ve lived together for a while now. Wonwoo does wear his contacts most of the time, because it makes dancing easier, but has Moon Junhwi really never noticed? 

Wonwoo leaves silently to let Moon Junhwi brush his teeth in peace. He wants to get to breakfast before the rest of the trainees take the good food. 

He does stay for a little bit, though, hovering in the doorway for just a second. It’s just long enough to see the glob of toothpaste fall off the toothbrush seconds before Moon Junhwi puts it in his mouth, and Wonwoo smiles as he makes his way towards the kitchen, the sound of whispered curses in his wake. 

\---

Things change when Doyoon and Seungcheol are added to the lineup. Wonwoo doesn’t know the specifics of it, something about Tempest and another one of Pledis’ mistakes. All that matters to him are these three important things: the members born in ‘96 aren’t the oldest anymore (including himself), Seungcheol and Doyoon are way more experienced than the rest of them, and Jang Doyoon has a soulmark.

Unlike Mingyu and his potentially murderous intentions, Doyoon makes a very obvious effort to get to know his fellow marked members. The two integrate almost seamlessly into the group, but Wonwoo can’t help but see it as a divide and conquer, with Seungcheol leading the unmarked members and Doyoon taking care of the marked ones. He starts with Mingyu, taking him out for food and teaching him how to dance. He moves on to Moon Junhwi next, making sure to laugh at all his jokes and sit with him in the corners of the practice rooms as the sun starts to set, Moon Junhwi plowing his way through one Korean workbook after another as Doyoon offers what help he can. 

When it’s Wonwoo’s turn, he’s not quite sure what to expect. Jang Doyoon and Seungcheol came in like hurricanes, sweeping through the rest of them and showing them what they could be. But Wonwoo watches, and he takes notes, and he wonders who Jang Doyoon’s soulmate is and what she thinks of Doyoon nearly debuting, of Doyoon losing his chance, of Doyoon having to start back over as a trainee. 

“Jeon Wonwoo!” Doyoon catches him after practice, literally, his hand wrapping around Wonwoo’s wrist. It burns. But Doyoon just smiles, and the light from the street lamps reflect off his perfectly white teeth. “Let me buy you dinner!” He says, and Wonwoo knows better than to say no. 

Dinner is awkward. Doyoon takes Wonwoo to a near empty restaurant in a hidden alleyway where the portions are huge and the prices half as much as they should be. It’s unlike any restaurant Wonwoo has been to since he came to Seoul, and as much as he hates it, it does remind him of Changwon. 

Wonwoo eats, and Doyoon asks about his family and his interests, so Wonwoo answers with one word answers and eats some more. When he runs out of food, he takes small sips from his drink, because he can’t figure out the right words to answer these questions in a way that matters, and he hates when everyone’s attention is on him, and it’s impolite to order more food on someone else’s card.

Doyoon must be able to tell, though, because he stops suddenly in the middle of a question about Wonwoo’s younger brother as Wonwoo finishes the last of his water. 

“Wonwoo.” He says, and isn’t smiling. It must be something important. 

“Does Pledis know who your soulmate is?” He asks. 

Wonwoo shakes his head. “No.” 

Doyoon nods. “That’s good.” He says. There’s a small frown on his lips, though, and a closed off look in his eyes, and Wonwoo wonders what he did wrong this time, if it was something he said or did.

(Later, Wonwoo will realize that he did nothing wrong, that it was Doyoon who made a mistake at the beginning of a story that isn’t this one.) 

Everything about the situation is unfair. Doyoon is being so nice, taking him out for food, trying to get to know him (and the rest of the members) better, despite what happened with Seungcheol and Tempest. His situation is unfair, and yet here he is, trying to make the most of it. Smiling, practicing, laughing, as though the past year of his life hasn’t been a wild roller coaster, while Wonwoo brushes off his questions and genuine kindness with short answers and cold looks. 

Something in Wonwoo snaps. It’s  _ unfair.  _

“I don’t know who my soulmate is.” It’s the exact same thing he told Mingyu months before, word for word, but something about it feels different this time. He’s offering the information willingly. It’s the most he’s said all night.

(When the moon glows its brightest, sometimes, Wonwoo dreams of family.)

“Why not?” Doyoon asks. He’s not accusing, not like Mingyu was, and Wonwoo mentally takes a step back to think of the right words to say. 

“It’s not Korean.” He says. Stops. “My parents never approved, and the name isn’t Korean, so I always thought that translating it would make it real” 

“Real.” Doyoon repeats thoughtfully. His eyes are solemn, his hands flat on the table, like he’s waiting for something big. “Translating it would make it real.” 

Wonwoo nods. He knows the characters are Chinese, or maybe even Japanese, but that’s about it. No one’s seen them, not even his brother, and he refuses to translate them. Refuses to let fate win. 

“Well!” Doyoon smiles, and reaches his hand up to call for a waitress. “That’s easy, then.” He says, and orders Wonwoo another bowl.

\---

Wonwoo was wrong. 

He doesn’t know how he didn’t notice sooner, but he was wrong. He thought it was the three of them at first, him and Kim Mingyu and Moon Junhwi circling the rest of SEVENTEEN like a flock of unwanted birds, but he was wrong. 

He notices it in the way Junhwi clings to Mingming, and the way Mingming clings back. There’s no distinction of marked or unmarked there, just the sole power of being far from home bringing two strangers together as friends. Of being lonely. Wonwoo can’t help but feel envious, even though he knows it’s not the same. 

Mingming touches Junhwi a lot. They hug, and Junhwi will run his hand through Mingming’s hair, and Mingming will wrap his arms around Junhwi’s waist. 

They talk. Mingming sits with Junhwi sometimes and they’ll go through their workbooks together, sounding out words and practicing phrases with each other. They have long conversations in Chinese, and sometimes when the rest of the trainees are tucked into bed they’ll sit together on one mattress and Mingming will touch the tips of his fingers to the bandage on Junhwi’s wrist as Junhwi wipes unshed tears from Mingming’s eyes.

Wonwoo doesn’t mean to see this last bit, but he can’t sleep, and he needs to pee. Neither Mingming nor Junhwi notice him creeping around the dorm, thankfully, and he does his best to block out that moment from his mind. 

He tries his best not to dwell on it. Some things are better left forgotten.

\---

The addition of Joshua and Jeonghan means that the number of marked trainees to the number of unmarked trainees is six to ten. Wonwoo knows that Pledis absolutely cannot and will not debut all six of them, not when people with soulmates still get looked at twice on the streets and treated like they’re lesser. Not when Wonwoo’s parents call and ask him about his life as a trainee, and how his studies are going, and of disappointment and regret, and the only talk of soulmates they have is when they send thick bandages in their care packages and a reminder to use them well. 

More than six months have passed by now, and things are getting easier. Wonwoo finds himself loosening up around the other trainees, talking more and laughing more. The younger kids are funny, and everyone works hard, and when things get to be too much he can always hide behind Doyoon and recharge. 

He makes up with Mingyu, too. He isn’t sure what it is that draws them together, but Mingyu remains as open and as warm as he was the first time they talked, despite it now being summer, and Wonwoo takes comfort in his laughter and his strength and the fact that they’re both still figuring things out. 

Everyone is, really. The trainees are starting to become a true family now. Doyoon and Seungcheol are still in charge, despite the addition of Joshua and Jeonghan, and the more they train and work together the more Wonwoo thinks that debuting all sixteen of them wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. 

When Samuel leaves, the mood changes drastically. Samuel was everyone’s baby, the bright light that lit up the practice room, bringing everyone together over a mutual desire to take care of their youngest. 

When Samuel leaves, Doyoon catches Wonwoo as they’re leaving the building, just the same as the first time. The streetlights are bright, and he’s still smiling his honest smile. Wonwoo can’t help but smile back. 

Doyoon had become something of a safe harbor for Wonwoo in the past months. Someone who listens without judgement, who offers sensible advice, who is a constant shoulder to lean on and cry on.

“Let me buy you dinner?” Doyoon asks, like Wonwoo would consider even for a second saying no. 

Only, instead of the nearly empty restaurant in a hidden alleyway, Doyoon leads Wonwoo back into the dark practice rooms. In a room off to the side are six boxes of takeout, an open computer, and one Yoon Jeonghan. 

“I don’t get it.” Wonwoo says. “I didn’t do anything wrong to deserve an intervention, did I?” 

Doyoon laughs. Jeonghan, who is sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, jerks up at the sound. 

“No, no.” Doyoon says, and later, Wonwoo will think of this moment and know. Know that  _ this _ is where things started to go wrong, know that this was where it all began. The beginning of the end. 

“It was your birthday recently, right?” Jeonghan asks, standing up and making his way towards the table with the food and the computer. Wonwoo nods hesitantly. 

They had had a small celebration as a group, but Jeonghan had only been around for about a month by that point, and they hadn’t gotten to know each other that well yet. Still, the make-up celebration feels weird. Something about this entire situation doesn’t sit right, and Wonwoo should know better than to ignore his instincts. 

Instead of voicing his concerns, however, Wonwoo just takes a seat. He’s not going to question free food. 

The minute he can see what’s on the screen of the computer, Wonwoo stops short. It’s open to a simple translation website, but the implications of that alone are enough to send Wonwoo’s heart racing. He glances at Jeonghan, who is busy opening takeout boxes and doesn’t seem to care, before turning to Doyoon, who is standing by the open door and smiling softly. 

“It’s your choice.” He says. “You can choose to know now, or maybe later, or maybe never. Fate may have given you this curse, but that doesn’t mean you have to let it control you.” He glances at Wonwoo’s wrapped wrist, and Wonwoo’s never heard anyone call a soulmate mark a  _ curse, _ but it makes sense, and not for the first time he wonders what happened to Doyoon’s soulmate. 

“Have you seen Joshua’s wrist?” Jeonghan asks, offhandedly, picking a box of food for himself and snapping his chopsticks neatly. “It’s so long that he has to wrap his whole forearm. We’re kind of lucky, if you think about it.” 

(Lucky?) 

Wonwoo has three Chinese characters on his wrist, and judging by the wraps on Doyoon and Jeonghan’s wrists, theirs are about the same length. Wonwoo  _ has _ seen the way the bandages wrap the entirety of Joshua’s forearm, and he refuses to let himself wonder if Joshua came to Korea to escape his soulmate-with-an-English-name.

(It’s none of his business.)

“Why you, then?” Wonwoo asks Jeonghan. “Why not Joshua, or…” He trails off there, because he doesn’t know what he’s asking. One of the Chinese trainees, Junhwi or Mingming perhaps? Or perhaps one of the international trainees in general, like Vernon. Or no one at all. Why Yoon Jeonghan, who Wonwoo would never have had a single conversation with if not for them both being trainees at the same company?

Doyoon just smiles, and closes the door. He must be able to sense that Wonwoo isn’t going to run away like a coward, not this time. 

“I didn’t want to bother them, and I figured it would be easier for you if someone else knew.” He says, sitting down next to Wonwoo, and it’s the stupidest excuse Wonwoo has ever heard. Jeonghan is, perhaps, the most easily bothered out of all the trainees at Pledis, and the whole point of society forcing those with soulmates to wrap their soulmarks is so that no one will know. 

(It’s uncivilized, he’s been told. A weakness.)

“Okay.” Wonwoo says. Doyoon hands him a box of food, and he begins eating automatically. The noodles are spicy, and the meat juicy, and Wonwoo loses himself in the act of stuffing as much food into his mouth in one go as he possibly can.

It isn’t until all the food is gone and all three boys are lounging around the table, chatting idly, that Wonwoo really lets himself think about what he’s about to do. He makes a point of not looking at his soulmark whenever it’s not covered, and while some people might know the name of their soulmate off the top of their head, Wonwoo doesn’t even remember the shape of the first character in the name.

Which means that he’s going to expose his soulmark to his two hyungs. Wonwoo is tripling the number of people who have seen his soulmark in one sitting, right here, on some nameless day at the end of July. 

“So do I just go for it?” Wonwoo asks, untucking the bandage from where it’s wrapped around his wrist. It’s the good, quality kind, thick enough that it only takes one wrap around to hide the dark characters. 

Doyoon shrugs. “Be my guest.” He says, so Wonwoo unwraps his wrist quietly and tries to ignore the way Jeonghan’s eyes widen slightly and Doyoon leans against Wonwoo’s arm in order to see the characters better. 

Then it’s a matter of figuring out how the translation website works, because not knowing how to pronounce the characters makes it very difficult to try and translate them, or at least to figure out what they are, and maybe they really should have invited Junhwi or Mingming to this intervention-esque occasion, but–

_ Wen Junhui. _ The computer’s speakers announce.

All three of them are frozen. Doyoon, with his hands on the keyboard, Wonwoo, still fidgeting with his wrist wrap, Jeonghan, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. 

“You don’t think…” Jeonghan says, and stops. 

Wonwoo doesn’t know what to think. Wen Junhui. It’s too similar, too much of a coincidence, it’s so unlikely and yet–

“It’s a boy’s name.” Doyoon says. 

“Yeah.” Wonwoo replies. He’s not surprised, and he wonders if they are, if they’re going to treat him differently now that they know. That is, before he realizes that of course, there’s no possible way that any of them will be able to go back to the way things were before. 

_ Wen Junhui _ the computer says again, and both Wonwoo and Doyoon turn to Jeonghan, with his hands on the mouse and eyes wide and innocent. 

“What?” He asks. “I was just making sure.” 

Wonwoo wishes he knew what was happening. He wishes his mind was racing, that he was putting together different instances and situations that didn’t make sense before like some detective solving a crime, but all he can think is  _ good thing we didn’t invite Junhwi here to translate. _

“The thing is,” Jeonghan says, because despite his lazy demeanor he’s actually really smart. “Why didn’t he say anything? They’re both marked, and the chances of them not being each other’s soulmate is nearly impossible.” 

Which is true. Wonwoo has never heard of two marked people with only one having the other’s name on their wrist. With his luck, though, he would be the first.

“Don’t be so quick to make assumptions.” Doyoon says, because of course he knows something they don’t. He’s the unofficial caretaker of the soulmarked trainees after all.

“Is it him, though?” Wonwoo asks, because he has to know. “Is my–” my soulmate, my soulmark name, my  _ Wen Junhui _ “Moon Junhwi?” 

Doyoon shrugs, which is completely unhelpful, and actually quite annoying. “I can’t say.” He says, even though he’s very clearly saying  _ something,  _ and it’s enough to make Wonwoo want to scream. 

“But if it is,” Doyoon continues, as though he can’t see just how frustrated Wonwoo is, “You can’t tell Pledis.” 

Wonwoo scoffs. This, at least he knows. “It’s none of their fucking business.” He says, and tries not to show his pride when he hears Jeonghan let out a small laugh. 

Doyoon nods. Wonwoo’s never seen him look this serious before. “Good.” He nods. “Because if you do, one of you is going home. And you both know who it’s gonna be.” 

It’s a threat, a hint at something greater. It’s unspoken, the way Pledis treats the Chinese trainees, but Wonwoo has seen the result of their mismanagement in the midnight conversations between Junhwi and Mingming, when they cling to each other and pretend the other isn’t crying. 

Wonwoo doesn’t let himself dwell, though. He can’t– not if he wants to get through this training period and debut. So what if he knows what his soulmate’s name is now? Fate had never been kind to him in the past. It wouldn’t make sense for it to start now.

\---

The thing is, Wonwoo doesn’t actually know what Junhwi’s Chinese name is. 

He’s heard it said before, in passing, of course, but when he thinks about it, he can’t remember if it’s  _ Wen Junhui. _ If the accents are in the right place, if the characters translate the same way, if his soulmate Wen Junhui is the same as his teammate Moon Junhwi who wakes up early and acts as everyone else’s morning alarm and cooks breakfast and drops toothpaste off his toothbrush. 

(Wonwoo wouldn’t mind if it was, though, but he banishes the thought before it can fully form.)

So during lunch a few days later, he takes his food and sits across Junhwi and Mingming from where they’re lounging on the practice room floor. Both of them look up from their food, Junhwi confused and Mingming suspicious, but Wonwoo just starts digging in. If there’s one thing he’s learned from Doyoon’s kindness, it’s that the hardest conversations are easier on a full stomach. 

Mingyu sits down with them too, completing the circle, naturally following Wonwoo the same way Wonwoo naturally follows him. Wonwoo doesn’t know if it’s Mingyu’s natural affinity with people that makes them turn back to their food, or if it’s simply that Wonwoo isn’t the only one invading the Chinaline’s private time anymore that eases their minds.

Either way, the four of them make their way through lunch in relative silence. There’s a moment when Junhwi sneaks some food from Mingming’s bowl and receives a quick pinch in return, and Wonwoo really wishes his mind hasn’t been opened to the idea of him and Junhwi together (being soulmates) because all he can think when he sees the exchange is  _ cute. _

“Moon Junhwi.” Wonwoo says, when Junhwi’s finishing the last of his rice. “What’s your name?” 

Junhwi stops, eyes wide, with his chopsticks still in his mouth, eyes wide in confusion. He points at himself, as though asking  _ me?, _ and Wonwoo resists the urge to laugh. 

“Yes. Your Chinese name, I know your Korean name.” Wonwoo glances at Mingming too, who is picking at his empty bowl, looking like he hopes more food will magically appear. “You too, Myeongmyeong.” He continues, as though he doesn’t already know it’s Mingming. Myeongmyeong really just doesn’t sound right in comparison.

“Wen Junhui.” Junhwi (Junhui)  _ (Wen Junhui) _ says, taking his chopsticks out of his mouth. “And Yao Mingming.” 

Wonwoo takes a napkin and a pen and pushes it across the floor. “Can you write them down?” He asks. He does his best to make it seem as natural a question as he can, and thanks what little acting abilities he has that Junhwi doesn’t question him any further. 

Junhwi takes the pen, and sure enough, the three characters scrawled messily on the napkin are the same as the ones printed neatly on Wonwoo’s wrist. 

He feels sick. Why hadn’t Junhwi said anything before, and why isn’t he saying anything now?

(Maybe it’s Wonwoo’s fault. Maybe it’s because he hadn’t acknowledged their connection before now either but–

No. Surely,  _ surely _ Wen Junhui would have said something.)

“Why do you ask?” Mingming says. If anything he looks even more suspicious now. 

Wonwoo shrugs. Luckily, he’s prepared for this question. “I just thought that since we’re gonna be spending the rest of our careers together, we ought to learn how to say your names correctly.” 

(It’s a bold statement. Wonwoo doesn’t want to think of what it would be like if they never debut, if they only debut with some of the trainees but not all, if Pledis started to cut members. The dreams of family seem closer and closer as the days pass by.)

Junhwi smiles. He must have caught on to what Wonwoo’s trying to get at, the hope interwoven in his very words. “Well!” He looks excited. “My name didn’t change much in translation, so it shouldn’t be that difficult to learn!” 

Wonwoo spends the next fifteen minutes learning how to pronounce  _ Wen Junhui _ properly. Mingming and Mingyu leave, probably to actually be productive with their time, but Wonwoo gets drawn into the excitement in Junhui’s eyes, the way his hair frames his face perfectly, the way he stumbles over his words in an attempt to get them out as fast as he can. 

The sick feeling doesn’t go away, because there’s so much that Wonwoo still doesn’t understand, but at least for the first time in his life he can read the name on his wrist properly, and pronounce the words the way they’re supposed to be pronounced. 

Wen Junhui. Wen Junhui. Wen Junhui. 

\---

Mingming and Doyoon leave, and  _ this isn’t how it’s supposed to happen at all. _

They leave and Wonwoo finds himself bereft. Empty. 

Doyoon, who took him out for dinner in a nearly empty restaurant in the middle of an alleyway. Doyoon, who convinced him to conquer his fears and start taking fate into his own hands. Doyoon, who was his teacher and his guide and most importantly his  _ family. _

But Mingming leaves too, and it seems like the world’s been turned on its head.

Junhui retreats into himself, and Wonwoo wishes there was something he could do to help. But the whole team is reeling from their losses, and while Wonwoo has opened up and figured out how to talk to the other trainees, even at his best he doesn’t know how to make others feel better. And, he still doesn’t know why Junhui hasn’t said anything about their matching soulmate marks. About the fact that they’re almost definitely soulmates. 

He wants to ask Doyoon what he meant, when he said that they shouldn’t make assumptions about Junhui’s intentions. But Doyoon’s gone now, and so is Mingming, and Wonwoo doesn’t know what to do.

(They were supposed to make it, the 16 of them. It was supposed to be them against the world.)

Instead, Wonwoo asks Jeonghan. Doyoon and Mingming are gone, and Seungcheol will be their leader, and Jeonghan is the oldest member with a name on his wrist and something inside Wonwoo  _ twists, _ because he understands now. He understands why Jeonghan was there when Wonwoo first revealed his name, why Jeonghan was the one helping them translate instead of one of the foreign members or, god forbid, Wen Junhui himself. 

“Do you know what Doyoon knows?” Wonwoo asks, twisting the bandage around his wrist, and tries not to sound as desperate as he is. His heart is pumping violently, and his hands are shaking, and all he can think of is the way Doyoon smiles and the softness of Junhui’s eyes. 

“No.” Jeonghan replies, and he truly does look sorry, but the world whites out in Wonwoo’s ears for a moment. 

Wonwoo could still ask Doyoon. He could pick up his phone and message him, but Doyoon made his choice. Doyoon made his choice and he didn’t choose Pledis (he didn’t choose  _ them) _ so Wonwoo doesn’t. 

(He knows that Doyoon has his reasons. It’s not like he just abandoned the rest of them for no reason, but his absence still stings. In the depths of night, when Wonwoo can’t sleep, he wonders what the word  _ family _ means to Doyoon and Mingming.)

\---

When SEVENTEEN debuts, there are five members with soulmate marks. It’s a lot, even though it may not seem like it (more than one third, the mathematician part of Wonwoo’s brain whispers), and it’s enough to stir up the rumor mill that has become the KPOP entertainment industry, about the new boy group with eight hardworking boys and five unnatural ones. 

Jeonghan and Joshua help. They field the more invasive questions well, answering them with perfectly vague answers that don’t really mean anything. Mingyu brushes off the lighter questions with bouts of laughter, and Jun does his best, too, despite not having a complete grasp of the Korean language. It’s good enough that Wonwoo can sit in the back during interviews and practice the “cold-guy” persona that the fans love. (It’s enough, even though he wants to yell and scream and cry.) 

Somewhere in between, Wonwoo has, for a lack of a better term, learned how to play nice with Jun. He figured out how to hide his confusion in the box of  _ feelings _ that he locks and refuses to let anyone open, how to treat Jun the same way he treats the rest of the members on camera, how to go throughout his days working and struggling and wearing himself out without letting it slip that one of his members is his soulmate. That he and Jun are linked.

Minghao helps. He fills in the gaps that Mingming left in Jun’s heart, and even though he doesn’t reciprocate the clinginess that Jun and Mingming shared, doesn’t connect on the same level, Wonwoo still sees the way Minghao watches over his hyung. He tolerates Jun’s excitement, holds him in careful hands, and keeps an eye out for his moods. 

In short, Minghao is perfect for Jun. Wonwoo tries not to let the truth bite too harshly.

But gone are the midnight talks. Minghao never touches Jun’s wrist. There’s a coldness between them sometimes, when Jun would touch the wrap around his wrist absentmindedly and Minghao would back away, not knowing what to do. It’s common behaviour for normal people who don’t know how to interact with those with soulmates, but those moments are few and far between, and Wonwoo can’t help but be thankful for the open mindedness of his team. How they try their best to include the five of them in everything they do, how they get over whatever mental barriers they have to treat the rest of them normally. 

Wonwoo goes to bed every night, exhausted and stressed, but finally surrounded by his family. 

\---

Jun finally asks the question sometime after the promotions of Adore U, with a serious look in his eye.

“Do you hate me?” 

“What?” Wonwoo asks. The dorms are nearly empty, with everyone visiting their families for the short holiday. Minghao and Joshua, who are too far from home, are out eating as much as they can without the managers creeping around behind them, watching their every move. Wonwoo has nowhere to go.

Neither does Jun. The two of them are lying down, both on their phones; Jun is on the couch, and Wonwoo is on the floor next to him, having stolen all the pillows from the absent members’ beds to make himself a nest. The T.V. is on, playing some variety show at a low volume, and Wonwoo had been about thirty seconds away from falling asleep before Jun had spoken up. 

“Hate you?” Wonwoo tilts his head up to look at Jun, who hasn’t responded yet. 

“Yeah.” Jun says. His left wrist hangs off the couch offhandedly, and the clean white bandage wrapped around Jun’s wrist calls to Wonwoo like a siren. It’s only a few centimeters from his face. How easy would it be to reach out and unwrap it? 

“Why would I hate you?” Wonwoo tears his eyes away from Jun’s wrist to his face. It’s not much better. Jun’s eyes are too honest, his expression too open. There’s a small zit on his chin, but it doesn’t take away from the balanced proportions of his face and the niceness of his nose. 

There’s a kindness in Jun that Wonwoo had never seen until he came to Seoul. It reminds him of Mingyu, that day they talked for the first time, only while Mingyu remains Wonwoo’s safe harbor everything about Jun screams  _ danger. _

Jun scrunches up said nose. “I don’t know.” He replies. “On camera you treat me like everyone else, but once the cameras are off you become cold and don’t talk to me. You’ve become comfortable with everyone else, so I wondered if it was something I did?” 

The last part of his sentence is lifted, like a question. Wonwoo hums under his breath, because he knows exactly what Jun is talking about. 

The thing is, on camera, it’s easy to be around Jun. Even before they had debuted, when the stress of not knowing what the future held was the first thing on everyone’s minds, once the camera was on, everything seemed to change. All of Wonwoo’s focus had been on how he looked to the fans, on how his actions represented the company and showcased his training, on the bonds between the other trainees. Of course he treated Jun like everyone else. To Wonwoo, who was and still is desperate to prove himself, that’s exactly what Jun was. 

But off camera. Off camera, the real Jeon Wonwoo takes over. The real Jeon Wonwoo takes over Wonwoo’s brain and asks him why Jun hasn’t said anything about their soulmate marks, if Jun even has Wonwoo’s name in return, what their relationship looks like to the rest of the members and the management. 

Jun is Wonwoo’s  _ soulmate. _ Of course Wonwoo can’t treat him like everyone else. 

“It’s nothing you did.” Because for all Jun acts, he’s not an idiot. Of course he’s noticed that Wonwoo treats him differently. 

“Is there anything I can do, then?” Jun asks, almost too earnestly. 

Wonwoo hates it. Jun is too innocent, too naïve, too pure compared to Wonwoo. He doesn’t deserve the way Wonwoo’s brain twists, assuming the worst of him, questioning his intentions and his actions until there’s nothing left but regret and self-hatred. 

Jun has his reasons for not saying anything. Wonwoo has to believe that.

“No.” Wonwoo says. The word comes out choked, which makes sense, because Wonwoo feels like someone’s wrapped their hands around his neck. 

“Are you sure?” Jun asks. He sounds pitiful. It’s obvious how much he wants to mend the rift he thinks is between the two of them. 

Wonwoo breathes heavily once, then twice.

“Jun.” He starts, the strength of his voice startling to the two of them. 

“Yes?”

“What’s your favorite color?” 

Wonwoo knows he can’t tell Jun the reason why he was avoiding him. He can’t make assumptions, according to Doyoon, but he’s not willing to put himself on the line or say anything without the assurance that he and Jun are in the same boat. 

But what Wonwoo can do is get to know his soulmate better. Maybe if he figures out who Wen Junhui really is, he’ll be able to figure out his intentions. What he wants with his soulmate, how he wants to move forward with his career and balance his soulmate with that, and most importantly, what exactly his soulmate’s name is.

What Wonwoo can do is assure Jun that he doesn’t hate him. Maybe he’ll even be able to get closer to him without revealing that with every passing day, Wonwoo falls a little bit more in love. 

\---

Wonwoo holds Jun’s career in the palm of his hands. Or in his wrist. Same thing, really.

What Doyoon told him all those years still sticks with him. He can’t help it, really, Wonwoo is drawn to Jun, like a moth to a flame, like Icarus to the sun. Too close and his wings will melt off, but the exhilaration of it all is almost enough to let himself fall. 

They fit well together. It’s uncanny, the way their brains exist on the same wavelength. Wonwoo didn’t know if he’d ever find someone who understood him the way Jun does, and any hesitation he had had about their supposed soulmate connection is gone now. Wonwoo knows it, the way he knows his mother’s smile and his father’s hands, that he and Jun are soulmates.

Even his relationship with Mingyu and the trust he had for Doyoon don’t compare. Mingyu is Wonwoo’s comfort. Jun makes Wonwoo feel  _ alive. _

Still. There’s that voice in the back of his head, screaming at him to be careful. That if Pledis catches wind of the truth, it means the end of both of their careers. They may be a progressive group compared to others, with their five marked idols, but there’s enough stigma against soulmates that if the public were to learn that Wonwoo and Jun were soulmates, even if it’s one sided, they would call for both of them to be removed from the group. 

KPOP idols are supposed to be desirable, but just out of reach. Wonwoo is supposed to be the flame, not the moth, and it’s a careful line to walk. 

His unmarked members clearly don’t care about the tiny voice screaming in Wonwoo’s head, if Soonyoung’s actions are anything to go by. Soonyoung is unrelenting in his questions about soulmates, enough so that Jeonghan has gotten into the habit of leaving the room once Soonyoung starts asking the more outlandish questions. 

It’s not that the questions are insensitive. There’s just a lot of them, because the world as a whole tends to ignore the things it doesn’t approve of, and soulmarks are one of those things. There are a lot of unanswered questions regarding soulmates and soulmarks and Soonyoung is the type of person to take advantage of the fact that he lives with five soulmarked people to get his answers. 

“You should show us your soulmark!” Soonyoung leans against Wonwoo’s arm, peering over his shoulder at the book in Wonwoo’s hands. The bus back to the dorms is crowded enough, with seven of them piled into the seats haphazardly, and Wonwoo doesn’t really need Soonyoung infringing on his space any more than necessary. 

“No.” He replies, without looking up. It’s none of Soonyoung’s business, no matter what life lessons about trusting family Doyoon had been trying to teach him before he left.

Jeonghan, sitting in front of Wonwoo and Soonyoung, turns around. For a moment, Wonwoo fears the worst– Jeonghan outing him, Jeonghan telling the rest of the members about Wonwoo’s mark, Jeonghan damning him and the rest of his career. 

Jeonghan is many things, but an idiot is not one of them. “Hey!” He laughs, like it’s not a big deal. “You can’t just ask poor Wonwoo that!” 

Jun isn’t in this van, and Wonwoo thanks every deity he can think of for that. 

“Why not?” Soonyoung asks, and Wonwoo hates how he sounds genuinely curious. “We’ve seen each other without clothes so many times, I don’t know how I haven’t seen Wonwoo’s soulmark before.” 

Wonwoo winces as he remembers the last time Soonyoung had barged into the bathroom while he was showering. He had had a split second to decide whether to cover his soulmark or his (ahem) private parts. It wasn’t his best memory. 

(He also hates how Soonyoung’s statement implies that he’s seen the other members’ soulmate names. Wonwoo hasn’t even seen Mingyu’s, and considering the amount of time they spend together and how close they are, that’s really saying something.)

“It’s just not the kind of thing you ask someone.” Wonwoo replies. He closes his book, giving up on reading for now, and rubs the bandage on his wrist. 

Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “Who made up that rule?” He asks. “It’s a part of you! You shouldn’t have to hide something that’s a part of you like that.” 

Wonwoo can’t help but stare blankly. “You have a very interesting view on soulmates, don’t you?” Yes, he’s avoiding the question, but what else is he supposed to do? Give an honest answer? 

Soonyoung laughs. “I don’t see how it’s a big deal. I’ve seen all the other members’ marks besides you and Moon Junhwi, you know.” 

Wonwoo raises one eyebrow at the back of Jeonghan’s head. Soulmate marks are private, especially for the people who own them. Wonwoo had been taught from a young age that he was never to let anyone see or touch his soulmark, and had assumed that the rest of the members had had the same lessons growing up. He can’t imagine letting Soonyoung (or anyone besides his soulmate, really) see his soulmark without at least a very violent fight. 

Jeonghan turns around and shrugs as though he can feel Wonwoo’s judging expression on his neck. “He showed up in the bathroom when I was showering! What was I supposed to do, cover my arm instead of my di–”

“That’s what Wonwoo did.” Soonyoung announces to the entire van. Wonwoo feels his face heat up under the scrutiny from the rest of the members, because that’s really not something he needed half of the group knowing. 

“Thank you, Soonyoung.” He says, because there’s no coming back from a revelation like that. “You never cease to entertain us.” 

Soonyoung blinks. “I just don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.” 

Wonwoo supposes that makes sense. For someone whose only heard stories about soulmates, he probably wouldn’t think it’s a big deal. Soonyoung has never had to deal with glares from strangers on the street, judgement from classmates, disappointment from parents before he’s even had a chance to prove himself, telling him to cover up his wrist and praying for their son to grow up normal.

For someone who has never experienced the very fundamentals of Wonwoo’s upbringing, it makes sense that he wouldn't think soulmate marks are a big deal. 

“It’s a big deal to me.” Wonwoo says honestly. “It’s something very personal, so I would appreciate it if you didn’t ask to see it anymore.” 

That, and Jun absolutely  _ cannot _ know that it’s his name on Wonwoo’s wrist. Not until Wonwoo is ready. 

Soonyoung stops, because being serious is not something that exhausted Soonyoung has an easy time comprehending. 

“Okay?” It comes out more of a question than anything. 

Wonwoo nods, and goes back to his book. He pretends he doesn’t see the way Jeonghan looks at him, the only person who knows something no one else does.

\---

Wonwoo knows he should stop eavesdropping on conversations that have nothing to do with him, but when his friends are having a private talk in his room with the door open, there isn’t much he can do about it.

Granted, Wonwoo had been out eating with the other members until late in the night, and had told Seungcheol that he wouldn’t be back until after midnight. Still, there are low voices coming from his room, and his hair is still wet from the shower, and all Wonwoo really wants to do right now is pass out for the next six hours at least. 

“I just don’t know what I’m doing here.” It’s Jun’s voice, and he’s either crying or on the verge of tears, and every nerve in Wonwoo’s body lights up, because Jun’s supposed to be the happy one. He’s happy and healthy and someone who never fails to light up the other members’ days, not someone who seeks out comfort in the dead of night in tears. 

(Wonwoo doesn’t think of Mingming and Jun and how they did this exact same thing. Doesn’t think of how Jun and Minghao are close but Jun still sees Minghao as someone to take care of instead of someone to let take care of him. The dynamics are different, and while Wonwoo knows that Jun is just as close– if not closer– to Minghao as he was to Mingming before he left, it’s not the same.)

“You’re here because you want to be. Because you need to be here, and we need you. SEVENTEEN isn’t SEVENTEEN without you.” Trust Seungcheol to say the truth. 

But Jun doesn’t sound convinced, not if the way he’s gasping for breath is anything to go by. “You’ve seen the way Pledis treats us. If it was going to be like this, why bother to debut us in the first place?” 

“You have a place here.” Seungcheol insists. “Both you and Myungho belong here, same as the rest of us.” 

Jun’s silent for a moment longer. His breathing hitches a few more times, and Wonwoo sits down next to the doorway, out of sight from the people inside the room, towel still hung around his neck. He can feel it in the air that it’s going to be a long night. 

“Sometimes I think I should have left with Mingming.” Jun says quietly, so quiet that Wonwoo nearly misses it, and now he really wants to throw up. He thinks of SEVENTEEN without Jun, what that would be like, and his mind comes up short. There is simply no SEVENTEEN without Jun. It’s unfathomable.

“Jun, no.” Now Seungcheol sounds stern. Maybe even a little angry. “If you weren’t here, Myungho wouldn’t be here either. And you’re always so bright, making us laugh, taking care of the kids. You have a right to be here, no matter what the management says or how they treat you.” 

“I feel like they’re going to kick me out of the group any minute now.” 

“We won’t let them.” Seungcheol is right. We, as in the entirety of SEVENTEEN as a whole. Protecting each other.

Jun doesn’t reply after that. Wonwoo feels exhausted, like he’s fought a hard battle, even though he had nothing to do with what just occurred. 

It’s still unspoken, the way Pledis treats Jun and Minghao, the same way they treated Jun and Mingming when they were trainees. 

It’s also unspoken, the way Jun is constantly staying late at the practice rooms, working on his singing. How he takes pride in the few lines he gets in every song, how he dances and pushes himself to the brink despite knowing exactly how debilitating injuries are, and that one more serious injury can wreck the rest of his career for good.

When Wonwoo finally stands and enters the room, Seungcheol is tucked into bed, reading something on his phone. Wonwoo looks around, because Jun didn’t leave the room, before realizing that there is a body sleeping on his bed under his covers. 

“Sorry.” Seungcheol whispers. “He was just hanging out there, and you two have gotten pretty close lately, so I didn’t think you would mind, but then he fell asleep.” 

Wonwoo nods. Seungcheol is right, Wonwoo doesn’t mind Jun sleeping on his bed. (Well, maybe “doesn’t mind” aren’t the right words. How about “really likes” instead? 

Seungcheol puts his phone down and moves to stand up. “You can sleep in my bed tonight. I don’t want to wake him up, so I’ll just sleep in his room tonight.” 

“No, it’s okay. I’ll go.” Wonwoo doesn’t want to put Seungcheol out of his bed– can’t, really. Not their leader. “Is he okay?” He asks, because it’s the polite thing to do, and he has to know. 

It’s dark, so Wonwoo pretends he can’t see the tear tracks on Jun’s cheeks. 

“He’ll be fine.” Seungcheol sounds exhausted as he sinks back into his pillows. Wonwoo can’t help but smile. “We should just remind him how important he is to us for the next few days, though.” 

That’s their leader. Always taking care of his members, forever watching out for the rest of them. 

“Of course.” Wonwoo says, and whispers a quick goodnight as he leaves. Seungcheol doesn’t reply, his quiet snores filling the room. 

Despite how tired he is, it takes Wonwoo forever to fall asleep. He lies in Jun’s bed, breathing in Jun’s scent, and trying not to feel like a creep. He tries not to think about Jun’s hardworking and honest nature, and the anguish in his voice as he confided in Seungcheol, because it wasn’t a conversation Jun meant for his ears. 

It’s hard to forget, though. Wonwoo eventually falls asleep to the memory of Jun’s sobs.

\---

“You know,” Jihoon says offhandedly, “The fans think you and Mingyu are soulmates.” 

Wonwoo lying on the couch in Jihoon’s studio, playing a game on his phone. The dorm is too loud, since it’s their day off and nearly all the rest of the members are there, and Jihoon is willing to let him stay while he works as long as he keeps quiet and doesn’t make a mess. 

In other words, Jihoon is a life saver. 

“Excuse me?” Wonwoo asks, putting his phone down, because there’s no possible way he heard Jihoon right. 

“I said, the fans think you and Mingyu are soulmates.” Jihoon sounds annoyed as he turns around to face Wonwoo. He hates having to repeat himself. 

“Pledis would kill us.” Wonwoo replies. It’s the only thing he can come up with. It’s true, too.

Jihoon shrugs. “Yeah, but everyone knows you and Mingyu have always been closer than everyone else. It’s not that much of a stretch for the fans, and both of you are too valuable to kick out of the group.”

Wonwoo thinks of the conversation that he was supposed to forget, and it’s enough to make him sit up. He feels nauseous. 

“You don’t seriously think that.” He insists. “Soulmates are a big deal, if Pledis seriously suspected something neither of us would be safe. No one would be.” 

Jihoon raises an eyebrow. “Do you want to argue about what Pledis would do if you and Mingyu were soulmates, or argue that you  _ aren’t?”  _

Wonwoo stares. “You don’t think we are, do you?” 

“Of course not.” Jihoon rolls his eyes. Somehow, his unfiltered honesty washes over Wonwoo like a cool stream on a hot summer day. “But you can’t deny that you two are pretty close.” 

“We’re just friends.” Wonwoo affirms. Him and Mingyu. Ridiculous. “He was the first friend I made when I met the rest of you. Since when did friendship equate to being soulmates?” 

“The fans see what they want to see. And what they see are two very close friends who both have a soulmate mark. It’s a matter of filling in the blanks at that point, and the evidence is pretty incriminating.” Jihoon sounds so smart. Wonwoo wants to punch him. Or something else. Anything really, since he’s not really picky right now and he’s not interested in being murdered in cold blood.

“Do you read those ridiculous fan theories about us when you’re here alone?” Wonwoo asks in retaliation, heated, because nothing's making sense anymore. The fans think he and Mingyu are soulmates. Jihoon, who cares the least about any of SEVENTEEN’s rumors, is the one telling him the news. Pledis hasn’t come after their necks yet. 

“Don’t get snappy with me.” Jihoon warns. “I’m telling you this as a favor, so you can figure out what you’re going to tell Mingyu and Jun.” 

“Jun? What would I need to tell Jun?” Wonwoo asks, and thanks an entire life of lying and acting that he doesn’t immediately stand up and leave.

Jihoon doesn’t even bother rolling his eyes this time. He just stares calmly, his gaze focused and piercing. 

“I see things. More than you guys think I do.” Which means, what? Him and Jun? What secrets does Jun have that he’s keeping from Wonwoo but telling to Jihoon? 

Jihoon stares for a moment longer before spinning his chair back around to his computer. “Soonyoung is right.” He says, completely casual, as though he hadn’t just dropped a bomb of a statement on Wonwoo’s head. “You could afford to trust us more.” 

Wonwoo could make a joke here. Maybe say something about how the rest of the members couldn’t keep a secret if their life depended on it, mention that if he had told Soonyoung what was written on his wrist, the rest of SEVENTEEN would know by now.

Instead, he swallows down his nausea the best he can and asks, “How much do you know?” 

Jihoon shrugs. “Enough that I’m not going to go around blabbing to people that don’t need to know.” 

“What about people who do?” Wonwoo can’t stop the words from coming out. “Are you going to tell them?” Him?

Jihoon doesn’t turn around again, but Wonwoo sees the way all of the muscles on his back still. 

“It’s your soulmate mark, on your wrist.” Every word Jihoon says is measured and careful. “I’m not telling anyone who doesn’t need to know.” 

The words themselves are too twisted to be much of a comfort, but Wonwoo chooses to believe that he can trust Jihoon’s intentions. This is his new family, after all, and even though Wonwoo has his doubts, life is about the hard choices. 

Plus, Jihoon isn’t as keen to open his mouth as Soonyoung is. 

“Okay.” He says, and lies back down on the couch. He has a text from Jun, asking if he wants to get dinner later, just the two fo them, and he busies himself replying to that. 

Even if Wonwoo is still curious about what Jihoon knows about Jun, and if he has to change the way he interacts with Mingyu after this to avoid future rumors, at least maybe someday, the two of them will be able to have a good laugh about this.

\---

After enough time has passed, the only conclusion Wonwoo can come to is that Jun doesn’t  _ want  _ Wonwoo as his soulmate. Which is fine, it hurts a little bit, but it makes sense. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

Jun clearly likes the idea of soulmates and is a secret romantic. He supports everyone else’s soulmate endeavors, no matter what has come of them, but he never talks about the name on his own wrist. Wonwoo has overheard conversations between Jun and Jeonghan, about how Jeonghan isn’t concerned with finding his soulmate now, between Jun and Joshua, about how Joshua’s dreams are more important than going back to America and finding his soulmate, between Jun and Mingyu, about how Mingyu still stays in touch with his soulmate and updates her every so often about SEVENTEEN’s successes.

But he keeps his own wrist wrapped all the time. Which is good because it means he doesn’t question when Wonwoo does the same, but it’s awful, because Wonwoo knows that it’s his name under there.

There’s no other explanation for it. Not with the way they fit together, the way their very souls are connected. Wonwoo and Jun are soulmates, but Jun doesn’t want him.

And that’s fine. Really, it is. 

But at night, when no one else is awake, Wonwoo wonders. He no longer dreams about family, because SEVENTEEN has really gone above and beyond in that capacity. 

Instead, he thinks about himself. About what little he’s managed to accomplish, about his lacking personality, about all the failures that came before their successes as a whole. He is haunted with memories of the days before he got to know the other members, when he was quiet and taciturn and cold, unable to speak. Even now that he’s figured out how to let his voice reign free, there’s still a part of him that shies away from the light, afraid of the sun.

Wonwoo wonders if that’s the reason why Jun hasn’t said anything. If he is simply not enough for him. 

Because Jun truly is something special. He has two parents who love him and a little brother who loves him most. He was an actor, then a dancer, and then a singer, and even though Pledis doesn’t recognize Jun’s talents to the fullest it’s clear that the fans do.

Really, Wonwoo had no choice but to fall in love. He hates it, hates the way his heart beats that little bit faster when he sees Jun, when he hears his voice. Hates the way he can feel his face heat when Jun grabs his hand without paying attention, when they always find their way to each other when they’re sitting as a group, when he leans his head against Wonwoo’s shoulder after a hard day of practice. 

Jun has accomplished so much, and has so much more potential. And this beautiful, powerful, perfect being is Wonwoo’s soulmate. 

It means nothing, though, since Jun doesn’t want him back.

\---

Wonwoo’s mark developed when he was twelve years old. 

Before that, his parents had hoped. They had prayed every night that the burn their oldest son was born with would go away with time, that it wasn’t actually a cursed soulmate mark but instead just a regular birthmark, that their son wasn’t destined for a life dictated by cruel fate. 

Twelve is late for soulmate marks. Most people who are born with the brownish blackish mark on the inside of their wrists develop their names around the ages of six to ten. 

Wonwoo’s brother was born without a mark. Once Wonwoo’s mark had fully developed, and his parents were no longer able to lie to themselves about the truth of their oldest son, all eyes turned to Bohyuk. He became their parent’s pride, the one who would carry on the family name and make their ancestors proud. 

Wonwoo tried not to let it bother him too much growing up. It was easy to love his brother. They were family, after all. 

But the sideways looks their parents gave him started to grate after a while. Family friends would hide laughter behind their hands, talking about the Jeons’ oldest son and his misfortune. Bohyuk began to surpass Wonwoo in every way– he was smarter, more handsome, more charming. Even though he was two years younger than Wonwoo, Bohyuk was able to wrap both adults and other kids around his fingers. 

Wonwoo just wanted to sing. He wanted to sing, and he wanted to dance, and if his parents had treasured him the way they do Bohyuk he would never have been allowed to become a trainee. 

Should Wonwoo have been thankful? Thankful that his mark had given him this chance, thankful that it’s allowed him to get away from his parents’ high expectations and strict demands?

He moved to Seoul with no expectations. In the big city, would people be kinder to those with soulmates? Or would the looks be twice as strong, the hidden laughter twice as loud. Would he meet people like him? Who struggled like him? Or would the city be full of people who don’t understand, who live their perfect lives flitting from one idea to another, without any regard for others.

All the stories he read as a kid were about conquering fate. About fighting against the higher powers, uniting with family, breaking away from the bad and being the hero that heralds in the good. His parents had reinforced this idea, shunning the idea of soulmates and telling him that his duty was to his family first and foremost.

But when Wonwoo was twelve, and his soulmate’s name was right there in front of his eyes for the first time ever, he was terrified. He wondered what they would be like– if they would be the type to sit quietly and read with him and laugh at his silly jokes, or if they would be the one introducing him to the world and traveling the country with him.

And the worst part was, he  _ wanted _ that. He wanted someone who the universe itself knew would be his best friend, his closest companion, someone who would understand him and trust him without reservation. Despite his parents telling him that having a soulmate was  _ wrong, _ despite what the world thought of soulmates, the idea of having someone who shared his very  _ soul _ was something Wonwoo was inexplicably attracted to. 

But he was scared. He was terrified, and twelve years old, and there was someone else’s name on his wrist that he couldn’t read, and it was too much. There were too many conflicting points of view, fate hanging over his head like a knife.

So Wonwoo wrapped his wrist, and promised himself he’d never tell anyone. And he continued to wrap it, day after day, until the day Jang Doyoon taught him how to stop being afraid.

\---

Really, it’s not Wonwoo’s fault he gets sick. He had always been sickly as a kid, much to his parent’s chagrin. It was hard enough keeping up with everything they expected out of him, so it was only a matter of time before SEVENTEEN’s extensive schedules caught up to him. 

He takes it as a chance to get away from Jun and figure out what’s going on. It’s been so long since he’s had the chance to think, to breathe, to really sit down and figure himself out without twelve other people breathing down his back.

Here are the facts: 

Wonwoo has Jun’s name on his wrist. This means they are soulmates.

In SEVENTEEN, only Jeonghan and Jihoon know about this. Outside of SEVENTEEN, only Jang Doyoon knows. 

Wonwoo has no idea what’s on Jun’s wrist, if it’s his name or someone else's. He knows Jun has  _ a _ name on his wrist, because he keeps it covered, but Jun hasn’t exposed whatever’s written on it to any of the members except aforementioned Jang Doyoon.

Jun hasn’t said anything to Wonwoo about being soulmates. In return, Wonwoo has done the same. 

(The more time that passes, the more Wonwoo wants to say something. There are so many questions that he doesn’t have the answer to, and yet– there’s that part of him that’s still scared. Scared of rejection. Scared of the truth. Fear is powerful, and it’s the only constant Wonwoo has ever had his entire life.)

Wonwoo gets sick, and it’s not the kind of sickness that he can sleep off in a day or two, so he goes home. 

Well. Not home. Not anymore. 

Wonwoo goes back to Changwon, and it’s been a long time since he’s been back. Too long. Everything has changed, and not in a good way. Bohyuk is older now, taller than Wonwoo remembers him being. His parents don’t quite know what to do with him. Despite everything he’s been told, despite the way they’ve looked down on him since the day he was born, Wonwoo is famous now. He’s famous and he’s succeeding and he’s doing better than ever now that he’s in Seoul and living his dream. 

He misses his members like crazy. Not just Jun, but the others, too– Mingyu, who always stands by Wonwoo’s side and listens to what he has to say, Seungcheol, who is the first to stand up for his members and comfort them, Jeonghan, who hides his caring and nurturing side with tricks and pranks– it’s all the members, combined, who have become his family. These people in Changwon, these parents who raised him, this younger brother who he treasures, they’re not his family. They’re his blood, but they’re not his family. 

Not anymore. 

“Are you happy with your life?” Wonwoo’s father asks, when Wonwoo is too sick to get out of bed. He spends most of his days reading and listening to the sound of children playing outside, feeling the breeze come in through his open window. Wonwoo doesn’t know what his father expects. Maybe resentment, for their schedules and work causing him to become ill. Maybe regret, for leaving his old home behind and moving to the big city. 

Wonwoo doesn’t care. He says yes. 

“Are you taking care of yourself?” Wonwoo’s mother asks, when he sits in the living room working on his lyrics. The door is open, letting in the cool ocean breeze to fight the stifling heat of summer. The birds are calling in the distance, and the air is fresher than it is in Seoul, and Wonwoo knows exactly what his mother expects, what she wants him to say. That if he really was taking care of himself, he wouldn't have gotten sick. That he should have stayed home and spent his days with the other kids at school, studying and going to the beach and living a normal life. That he should never have been born with this curse on his wrist to begin with. 

Wonwoo doesn’t care. He promises his mother that he’s taking care of himself, and retreats back to his room. 

Bohyuk doesn’t ask hard questions. Instead, he begs Wonwoo to play video games with him and sign autographs for his female friends. He tells Wonwoo that he’s going to become a model, because he’s more handsome than Wonwoo anyways, and Wonwoo just smiles and laughs. 

He hopes their parents let him. Bohyuk has big dreams, and Wonwoo hopes that their parents’ expectations don’t stop his little brother from pursuing them. 

In the night, when Wonwoo can’t sleep and starts to dream, he thinks of family, and he thinks of Jun. He thinks of the way Jun smiles, the way he laughs, the way he sleeps with his eyes open. He can remember the angles of Jun’s face perfectly– his eyes, his nose, his lips.

By the time Wonwoo is healthy enough to go back home to Seoul, he’s updated his list of facts. 

Wonwoo has Jun’s name on his wrist. 

Wen Junhui is the most beautiful person Wonwoo knows.

And, finally, it doesn’t matter who knows or not, because fate gave him this mark, and fate moves in mysterious ways. Wonwoo knows it, like he knows the cracked spines of the books on his shelf and the cheers of a crowd, that fate will bring him and Wen Junhui together, the same way it brought him to his family.

Wonwoo returns to Changwon, a city that had beaten him into the ground, and finds hope once more.

\---

There’s a rhythm to it all.

Wonwoo thinks he’s managed to get the hang of it, of treating Jun the same way he treats the rest of the members. He can’t help being a little bit softer with him, even on camera, the same way he is with Mingyu, but surely the fans wouldn’t think too much of it. Everyone in SEVENTEEN is close.

And, more importantly, surely the management won’t think much of it either. 

It’s a balancing act. A game, of sorts. Holding onto the way Jun’s eyes light up when he smiles without holding on too tightly to the hope that Jun will one day wake up and tell Wonwoo that he’s in love with him. 

It’s a hopeless love, but it’s also Wen Junhui. And when it comes to Jun, Wonwoo never stood a chance, really. 

Jun is soft with Wonwoo too, though, and that makes Wonwoo curious about whether there really is something that he’s missing. He doesn’t dwell on it, though, because he knows that the two of them will find their way to each other eventually, and even though there’s a reason why Jun hasn’t said anything yet that doesn't mean he never will.

Sometimes, Wonwoo really, truly, honestly believes that he’s getting closer. Jun will wrap his arms around Wonwoo when they’re both exhausted from practicing, lean his head against Wonwoo’s shoulder in the vans, use his chopsticks to give Wonwoo the best cuts of meat out of his own bowl. Little things that taste like happiness on the back of Wonwoo’s tongue. 

Other times, it’s a hopeless cause. Jun will spend an entire week hanging off of Vernon’s arm, barely paying attention to Wonwoo, treating him like he treats everyone else. They’ll sit next to each other during interviews and Jun won’t once hold his hand, or lean their shoulders together, and even though Wonwoo is itching with the urge to just  _ touch,  _ the sentiment isn’t returned. 

Those are the hard days, when Wonwoo lies awake dreaming of loneliness.

There’s a rhythm to it all. A sway, like a boat at sea, like the tides of the ocean. Jun is the moon, and Wonwoo is swept off his feet.

\---

Wonwoo wakes up to a day that’s like any other. It’s early spring, late winter, and they’re in the middle of preparing for another comeback. Having practiced late into the night before, his entire body aches, and he can barely open his eyes. The world isn’t any clearer when he’s fumbled for his glasses and smashed them onto his face. 

All in all, it’s a day like any other. Wonwoo can hear the other members getting ready, talking and play-fighting with one another. They don’t have schedules until the afternoon, so the mood in the dorm is light and happy. 

It’s not until he’s finished brushing his teeth that Wonwoo notices anything wrong. His wrist where Jun’s name is is burning, and while normally, Wonwoo wouldn’t care, this isn’t the same itch that he feels when he needs to change the bandage. It’s something different. Something deeper, and the pain goes all the way down to his bones. 

It’s no wonder why. When Wonwoo unwraps his wrist to make sure his hand isn’t about to fall off (bathroom door locked, of course, because he learns from his mistakes), for a moment, the name on his wrist is gone. 

Then it hits him. The name isn’t gone, it’s white. Where once the three characters of Wen Junhui’s name burned dark into his wrist, there now lies silvery scars instead. When Wonwoo runs his fingers over the scars, he can feel each individual bump and stroke. 

It can only mean one thing. Jun has acknowledged them as soulmates. Against all odds, years after Wonwoo had first translated Jun’s name in that practice room with Jang Doyoon and Jeonghan, Jun now wants him back. 

Wonwoo runs out of the bathroom so fast he’s surprised he doesn’t fall flat on his face. He can see Seungkwan and Soonyoung’s surprised faces out of the corner of his eye, but he doesn’t care. He races through the living room into–

The kitchen, where Jun sits at the dining table, staring blankly at the cup of coffee in front of him. His wrists are covered by long sleeves, and he hunches in on himself, fingers twisted together under the table. 

“Jun.” Wonwoo says, breathless. In his haste, he had forgotten to re-wrap his wrist, and the scarred name on his wrist stands out like a beacon. 

He doesn’t care. Wonwoo thinks back to the lesson Jun had given him back at the beginning of it all, teaching him how to pronounce his and Mingming’s names. Wonwoo does the best he can now, making sure to accent the words correctly and force his tongue into the right shapes. 

“Wen Junhui.” He says again. “Let’s talk.” 

\---

“Before you yell at me, can I explain?” Jun doesn’t look happy. 

The two of them are alone in Wonwoo’s room, Wonwoo sitting on his own bed, Jun on Seungcheol’s. The members are outside, probably whispering among themselves about what exactly they just witnessed, but Wonwoo doesn’t have it in him to care. Junhui wants him back. 

“Yes. Of course. I’m not going to yell at you.” The last part has to be said, and there’s a feeling in Wonwoo’s chest, ready to burst in the best way possible. It’s clear that Jun doesn’t feel the same way, not with the way he frowns and twists the ring around his pinky, but there’s too many feelings in Wonwoo’s chest for him to even consider holding them back. 

Jun takes a deep breath. “My mark developed last night.”

Wonwoo stares. It’s unheard of, for soulmate marks to develop so late. Jun is twenty one in Korean age, a few months shy of twenty two, and even Wonwoo, who can be considered a late bloomer, developed his mark nearly ten years ago.

“They thought something was wrong with me at first.” Jun says. He lifts his sleeve, and his wrist isn’t wrapped, and Wonwoo can see clear as day his own name scarred onto Jun’s wrist. Silver, for recognized and acknowledged soulmates. A completed soulmate bond.

“My mom knew it was a soulmate mark, and not a birthmark.” Jun continues, words spilling out of him the way they always do, too fast for his tongue to follow. “She told me to keep it covered, because people would judge, and so I did. I only showed it to Doyoon, before he left, and ‘Shua after because I know they treat soulmates differently overseas and I didn’t think he would care. It’s been feeling off for the past few days, hurting and itching, and this morning when I woke up I checked it and it was your name and it was already silver and that means you’ve known for a long time and I’m sorry.” 

Wonwoo can’t breathe. It’s an unlikely story. There are just too many things that don’t make sense realistically, first and foremost with Jun developing his soulmark so late. 

But. In all the time Wonwoo has known him, these past 5 years or so, Jun has always been painfully honest. Wonwoo, who considers himself good at seeing when people are lying or not, sees nothing but the truth written on Jun’s face. His eyes are pleading, begging for Wonwoo to believe him. 

And the worst part is that he  _ does. _ He believes Jun when he says that his mark developed last night, believes him when he says he didn’t know. It’s  _ Wen Junhui. _ Of course Wonwoo believes him. 

_ Don’t be so quick to make assumptions, _ Doyoon from 2013 says in the back of Wonwoo’s mind, and of course this is what he was talking about. Jun’s mysteriously undeveloped soulmark, unable to confirm the connection between Wonwoo and Jun until now. 

“It developed silver?” Wonwoo swallows back the urge to get up and wrap Jun in a hug. That's not what either of them need right now, and Wonwoo still doesn’t know if Jun even  _ wants _ him as his soulmate. 

“Yeah.” Jun replies, and now he sounds downright miserable. “I’m sorry.” 

Wonwoo can’t help it: he laughs. The entire situation is too much– years of self-doubt and unanswered questions, all boiling down to the fact that Jun’s mark just hadn’t developed yet. It’s an anticlimactic ending to a stressful journey, but fate had pulled through in the end.

“Why are you sorry?” Wonwoo asks. “It wasn’t your fault.” 

Jun stares down at his lap. “Still, you must have been waiting for a long time.” 

Wonwoo stands and walks to where Junhui is sitting. He sits next to Jun, angling his body so that Jun can face him full on, and grabs Jun’s hands gently. 

“Not that long.” Wonwoo smiles, the words come out softer then they should. “I didn’t realize we were actually soulmates until about a year after I met you. And it wasn’t too bad, waiting for you” 

Jun tilts his head like a cat. “What do you mean?” 

Wonwoo wonders how to phrase this in a way that makes sense, without Jun being overly concerned with things in the past.

“Soulmates and soulmarks were an off-limits topic when I was a kid. I didn’t end up figuring out what these characters said until Doyoon convinced me to translate them.” 

He moves Jun’s hand to his wrist, where the characters  _ Wen Junhui  _ reflect the light. Jun’s fingers are hesitant and careful, cool against the sensitive skin. 

“Really. It’s okay.” It’s an innocent touch, and yet Wonwoo feels more exposed in this moment than he had his entire life. The words  _ I love you _ sit on the back of Wonwoo’s tongue, but it’s not time. Not yet. 

“Junhui.” Wonwoo says, because his next question is important. “What do you want?” 

Jun startles, head rising to make eye contact with Wonwoo. They’re close, extremely close, and Wonwoo can smell the coffee in Jun’s breath and count Jun’s individual eyelashes, and it’s almost too much.

“Want?” 

“Yeah.” Wonwoo’s throat is dry, and Jun’s lips are right there, and normally he would retreat but this is the closest he’s allowed himself to be to Jun  _ ever _ without a camera on them. He can hardly breathe, he’s so drunk on the feeling of being with his soulmate. 

“What do you want out of this relationship? We’re soulmates, but it doesn’t have to be…” Romantic is supposed to be the next word, but Wonwoo can’t bring himself to say it. He doesn’t know what he’d do if Jun said no, if Jun said they should just stay friends and coworkers. Not when he’s spent so long loving him.

“I’m in love with you.” Jun blurts out, and that makes things a lot easier, doesn’t it? “I’ve been in love with for so long but I tried to ignore it and I felt awful because you had your soulmate and I have–”

“Me.” Wonwoo finishes. It’s his turn to touch his name on Jun’s wrist. Jun’s skin is soft, and the raised bumps of  _ Jeon Wonwoo _ are somehow even softer. “You have me.” 

Jun blinks. “You.” He repeats. “I have you.” 

“I love you.” Wonwoo says. The words are natural, soft, and he can feel Jun’s fingers tighten around his in return. 

Wonwoo looks down, to where their fingers are intertwined, where their rings are reflecting light. When he looks up, Jun’s eyes are wet, Wonwoo can feel his breathing stutter. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I just.” Jun’s voice sounds pained, but there’s a smile on his face. “I never thought I’d ever get here, or have this. I thought I was giving up on you when I came to be a trainee.” 

Wonwoo feels Jun’s words resonate with his soul. How long had he spent, as a kid, and then later as a teenager, dreaming about meeting his soulmate and spending the rest of their lives together? How many times since the start of his career had Wonwoo thought about Jun, convincing himself that they weren’t to be, that Jun didn’t want him back? 

Fate had always been something that Wonwoo had feared, but there had been a small part of him too, that hoped for a happy ending.

“Me too.” Wonwoo says, smiling back. “Me too.”

\---

They don’t bother trying to hide the change in their relationship from the rest of the group. Not only would they have been caught in about thirty seconds, but they’re family. Wonwoo doesn’t want to hide anything from his family. 

He likes Soonyoung’s reaction the best. When Wonwoo and Junhui finally emerge from the room after their talk, both of them teary eyed, Soonyoung is the first one to hound them for questions. Subsequently, he’s the first one to fall on the floor screaming.

They show off their marks, because of course they do. Wonwoo ignores the pride in Jeonghan’s eyes, and accepts Seungcheol’s congratulations with a watery smile. Junhui doesn’t let go of his hand, and even though he’s talking a mile a minute, free hand waving recklessly, Wonwoo doesn’t let go either.

Jihoon’s reaction is one single satisfactory nod. “I knew it.” He says, and Wonwoo laughs, because yes he did. 

“You should have bet on it.” Wonwoo tells him.

Jihoon eye’s glint with the satisfaction of a man several thousand won richer. “Who said I didn’t?” He asks, sending Wonwoo into another bout of laughter.

For their first date, because just because they’re in love doesn’t mean Wonwoo’s not going to  _ woo _ Junhui, Wonwoo takes him to the restaurant Doyoon took him to at the very beginning of it all. They order the spiciest dishes they can, and eat and laugh and talk, and bring back leftovers that no one else is going to eat. It’s so very different than when Wonwoo had eaten there with Doyoon all those years ago, and he takes pride in how much he’s changed. How much he’s grown. 

Junhui introduces him to his family via Skype, and even though Wonwoo doesn’t speak a word of Mandarin Chinese, he’s entranced by the way Junhui’s eyes glow when he speaks his native tongue, how the words come out even faster than Wonwoo is used to. He meets Feng Jun, who is just as adorable as Junhui claimed he was, and tries not to sink into the ground in embarrassment when Jun translates how handsome his mother and step-father think he is.

Pledis takes about a year to find out. They try to keep it quiet, just between the members, but it’s inevitable that the management would eventually figure it out. They send Junhui and Minghao to schedules in China while they figure out how to proceed, and while Wonwoo knows that Junhui will come back to him, there is still a small voice that persists in the back of his mind, the one that reminds him that he holds Junhui’s career in his hands. 

It’s a lie, though. Junhui has worked too hard and accomplished far too much at this point for anything that Wonwoo does to affect his career. 

It’s still hard, though. Before, when Wonwoo had existed in a state of “inbetween”, he and Junhui had fit together naturally. Now, with an established soulmate connection and the knowledge that they were made perfect for each other, even spending those few months apart is torture. Wonwoo misses Junhui like a limb, and spends his days either pining hopelessly after Junhui or annoying his members into giving him attention. 

He calls his parents, but only after Junhui pesters him into it. It’s a Skype call, same as Junhui did, only Wonwoo makes sure he’s alone. He tells them the news, because they’re his parents, and even though they’re not close anymore they probably still deserve to know. Wonwoo tells them about Junhui and his smile and asks them to send him his books, because books were what he first turned to when he was afraid of his dreams, and he wants to share that with Junhui.

And that’s exactly what he does, when Junhui and Minghao return from their schedules. He steals Junhui for a day and they watch his stages and read Wonwoo’s old children books together. Wonwoo makes sure to make fun of him for his relationship with Yan An and fanboy over his voice, and when Junhui laughs in embarrassment and pushes him off the bed, it’s everything he could have dreamed of and more. 

Wonwoo goes to bed every night with Junhui’s scent in his nose, now. They don’t sleep together, not every night (the teasing from the members was their strongest deterrent), but being the same height means they can interchange clothes without anyone being too suspicious. Or annoying.

When Wonwoo finds himself distracted for the sixth time that day by Junhui’s shirt riding up during his jump in Getting Closer, Jihoon throws a shoe at him in retaliation. 

“I’m not sure if this is better or worse than it would be if the fans were right and you and Mingyu were soulmates.” Jihoon says, disgusted. 

Junhui bursts into laughter, because of course he does, that traitor. Wonwoo feels the tips of his ears turn red, both because of the comment and because of the way Junhui’s laughter ignites something in his belly. 

“The fans thought we were soulmates?” Mingyu asks. He looks dumbfounded. Wonwoo winces, because he never actually had a conversation with Mingyu about it, just backed off for a little bit in public and tried not to be so clingy. Mingyu hadn’t said anything then, and apparently hadn’t noticed anything at all. 

“They still do.” Junhui chimes in. 

“In all honesty,” Seungkwan says, “It’s one of my favorite rumors about us.” 

“What?” Mingyu still sounds extremely confused, but no one is paying attention anymore. Soonyoung is a harsh task-master when driven, and there have been enough distractions today. 

“Practice first, gossip later.” Wonwoo says. While the rest of the members start resetting the formation, Wonwoo makes his way over to Junhui, who had taken the opportunity to grab some water. As quickly as he can, Wonwoo french tucks Junhui’s shirt, before placing his hand on Junhui’s chest and finally making eye-contact, wrist unwrapped and bare, name exposed for the rest of the members to see. 

“You’re distracting.” He says, and steals Junhui’s water. 

Junhui’s laughter resonates down to Wonwoo’s bones. When he reaches for Wonwoo’s hand, Wonwoo shifts to grab Junhui’s exposed wrist instead. The  _ Jeon Wonwoo _ written there is cool against the palm of his hand.

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://www.twitter.com/juniscake) come scream at me about Jun please he's so beautiful


End file.
